Unidentified Phenomenon Read online

  “You mean like…super powers?” Blake asked, surprised he uttered the phrase to Victor.

  Victor’s eyebrows went up. “Those are your words, not mine.” Then, he smirked.

  Blake contemplated whether the man knew more than he had let on. I can’t tell if he’s bluffing about expecting us to have super powers or if he actually knows we have super powers.

  Blake sighed and chose his words carefully. “We’ve been working with our science teacher. He’s really into comics and understands how those things could work—if they were real, of course.”

  “Why did you talk to this teacher instead of me?” Victor asked, his head tilting to the side in curiosity.

  “We didn’t trust you and we needed help. Some unusual things may have happened in the past few weeks that defy normal scientific explanation.”

  “I knew it,” Victor shouted, slapping his thigh and completely breaking character. He set his hot chocolate down and began pacing the small dirt path that followed the edge of the grassy knoll they were on. A woman with her dog ran past them on the trail.

  When she was out of earshot, Victor stopped pacing and rounded on Blake. “You two shits drained a year’s worth of energy and left me with nothing. How do you think I was supposed to answer for that?”

  “What are you talking about?” Blake shouted back, his rage brewing. “Answer to who?”

  Victor lost it and screamed at Blake. “I saw the camera feed, Blake! I saw you play with the orgone detector in the hospital and I know you and your friend came back to Rangeley. Why would you come back if nothing happened to you the first time you wandered into the Orgonon Reactor Core?”

  Reactor core? The words struck with shock and awe in Blake’s mind. “Tell me what happened to us!” Blake shouted back.

  “I don’t know!” Victor yelled back. “You and Quinn should be toast; burned to a crisp or melted into an oozing puddle of organic matter after soaking in that much energy. How you’re alive is scientifically…impossible.” He swiped his hand across the air in front of his torso, then walked back to the edge of the path and turned around.

  A moment later, he turned around, flustered, and put his hands on his hips. “You’re not different, you’re not special, you’re not unique, and worst of all, you haven’t trained for this. There’s no reason you guys should have been able to survive that dose of power. Your insides should have splattered all over the reactor core. You and Quinn should be nothing more than two unfortunate missing persons reports. I shouldn’t be down here groveling for…” Victor stopped, catching himself. “How you’re alive is scientifically…impossible,” he repeated.

  “You’ve tried it before, haven’t you?”

  “Tried what?” Victor snapped.

  “You’ve tried dosing people before, but it hasn’t worked until now; until, Quinn and I made it succeed on accident. You don’t even know how or why.” I’ve got you now.

  Victor grunted and shook his head. Then, he looked at Blake with anger in his eyes. Blake’s intuition and history with his father’s verbal abused told him the man was about to pounce again. Victor’s behavior in these past few moments had become increasingly uncharacteristic for the usually even-tempered man.

  “No, Victor, this is scientifically improbable.” He let power fill his eyes.

  Victor’s rage-filled face instantly softened into pure surprise when he saw Blake’s eyes glowing with orange-colored power. His jaw dropped open in awe.

  The two guards put their hands on their sidearms, but Victor raised his hand to stop them. “How?” he asked, cautiously approaching.

  “I have no idea, Victor.”

  “Keep meeting with your science teacher and learn as much as you can from him. We’ll be in touch.” Then, Victor walked past Blake, signaling for the guards to get back into the SUV. Blake shut his eyes off and watched the unmarked car drive back toward the mainland.

  Sometimes you are so weird, Victor.

  2 | Differing Ambitions

  Quinn

  QUINN AND BLAKE PEDALED THROUGH the empty school grounds and made their way to the back-baseball field. “You think he’s gonna show?” Blake asked.

  “Yeah, he was pretty excited about seeing what we can do,” Quinn answered. It had taken considerable begging on their part, but they finally convinced Mr. St. Germain to meet them late at night to see some of their powers in action.

  As they had done several times before, the boys hid their bikes behind the dugout. Before crossing the infield, they stopped to look and listen for other students; they heard nothing.

  “Looks like the coast is clear; Mr. St. Germain isn’t here yet,” Quinn said.

  “Yes, I am,” a man’s gravelly voice responded.

  The boys shrieked in fright as they spun around and saw a figure clad in black. The person wore a black hoodie with a bright yellow Batman logo on the front. Mr. St. Germain clapped his hands with delight and laughed hysterically, pulling back the hoodie from his head. Then, he abruptly stopped laughing. “Holy crap, you guys just disappeared!”

  “You scared the shit out of us!” Blake exclaimed.

  Quinn looked over at Blake and didn’t see him.

  “Yeah, sneaking up on people and scaring them is my super power…or guilty pleasure. My wife hates it. Speaking of whom, you’re lucky she’s at her mother’s place with the kids for the weekend. Trying to explain why I needed to be at the school at eleven o’clock on a Friday night would have been next to impossible. Now, would you mind becoming visible? I feel crazy talking to thin air.”

  Quinn smiled and reappeared. A moment later, Blake did as well. “So yeah, invisibility is one of our powers. It tends to happen automatically when we’re surprised.”

  “I see,” Mr. St. Germain answered. “Can you control it?”

  “Most of the time, but apparently it can still be triggered without us doing it.”

  “Well, that’s okay for invisibility, but I don’t need you inadvertently shattering more beakers or other equipment.”

  Quinn laughed. “That power seems to be under control.”

  “Good. Okay, let’s see what you got. Who goes first?”

  “I will,” Blake answered. “Let’s do this on the infield. I don’t need to scorch any more grass.”

  They walked to the infield and stood in the middle of the sandy area between first and second base. Though it was cool that night, Blake pulled off his sweatshirt and T-shirt.

  “Uh, what are you doing?" Mr. St. Germain asked, his voice slightly uncomfortable.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t get take everything off,” Blake answered. He unfastened his jeans, kicked off his sneakers, and handed his clothes to Quinn, who went to set them on first base. He turned around but didn’t come back. Mr. St. Germain remained a little too close, but Quinn knew he’d back off soon enough.

  Standing in his boxers, Blake let his hands fall to his side, palms open and facing forward. A moment later, his eyes starting glowing orange.

  “That is so cool!” Mr. St. Germain exclaimed. “Does it always happen when you use your powers? What are you doing right now? What power are you trying to show me? Huh, it’s suddenly getting hot. Oh, you’re making the heat, aren’t you? Wow, dude, you put off some serious BTU’s.”

  Quinn chuckled, watching Mr. St. Germain back away from Blake. Quinn stared at Blake. Though he had sensed Blake’s heat power before, he had never seen him focus on it like this. His body burned purple nearest his skin, then turned into a simmering orange flame that licked at the night air.

  “I think you’ve hit the next level, buddy,” Quinn said. “Your body is doing this purple-orange fiery glow thing.”

  “Bonfire Boy,” their teacher said, chuckling.

  “It’s awesome, isn’t it?” Blake asked, seemingly lost in the power. “And no, that will not be my nickname.”

  “I don’t want to alarm you, but the sand around you is charring,” Mr. St. Germain said.

  “Shit,” Blake said. A mo
ment later, he stopped glowing and his eyes faded. The heat coming from his direction dissipated into the cool night air.

  Quinn addressed one of Mr. St. Germain’s questions. “The glowing eyes seems to be something we can control, but sometimes it happens with certain powers on its own. We’re not really sure yet.”

  “What other powers have you learned about?” Mr. St. Germain.

  “Well, we both have enhanced hearing, vision…” Quinn answered.

  “Let’s call it what it is, Quinn…super hearing, super vision.”

  Quinn chuckled. “All right, fine, we have those, but our eyes don’t trigger when we use those powers. We might have super speed, too, but that seems to be struggling to appear.”

  “Well, I can do this,” Blake said. He reached out with his left hand toward first base. A moment later, his clothes and shoes flew to his hand.

  “Oh my gosh, telekinesis!” Mr. St. Germain said in whispered surprise. “Can you move anything or only certain objects?”

  “So far, anything I want, but it can’t be too far away,” Blake answered, putting his clothes back on.

  “What about you, Quinn?”

  “Well, there’s the water manipulation trick you already saw. That’s gotten stronger. I can also play with ice, but that’s kinda boring. Maybe it will be more fun when winter arrives.”

  “True, true.”

  “I can make some heat as well, but not like Blake can. We always sense each other’s proximity, too. Thankfully, that’s no longer annoying or super-painful, but it’s initially surprising.”

  “Okay.”

  “Oh, we both seem to recover quickly from physical exertion. We’ve noticed it after track practice, like while everyone’s cooling off and recovering, we’re both ready to go again. It’s almost like…cheating.”

  “Huh.”

  “We also seem to be…invulnerable, too. I was cutting carrots at home and the knife slipped. I should have a deep gash on my finger, but there’s nothing there. Blake said he noticed similar.”

  “Are you gonna show him or what?” Blake asked, adjusting his sweatshirt.

  Mr. St. Germain looked at Blake, then at Quinn, his ever-calm face becoming excited. “Ooh, show me what?”

  Quinn sighed. “This, but it might be a little awkward. It looks great in the movies, but in reality…it’s just weird.” He stepped over to his teacher. “Turn around and raise your arms a little.”

  “Uh…okay.” Mr. St. Germain said warily. “You’re not going to take your clothes off, are you?”

  Quinn laughed. “No.”

  “Just do it,” Blake chimed in, amused.

  Quinn stepped in behind his teacher and wrapped his arms around the man’s chest, interlocking his fingers.

  “You can drop your arms now.”

  “Okay, and you’re right, this is a little weird.”

  Quinn smiled awkwardly at Blake, who folded his arms across his chest and smiled back with amusement. He could smell Mr. St. Germain’s shampoo, and it was an awkward moment he hadn’t thought about. He looked to the sky and a moment later, he rocketed upward with his teacher. This time, his body glowed the same bright blue that his eyes did.

  Mr. St. Germain screamed with surprise, his voice filled with awe and terror at his first flight with Quinn. “Holy crap, you can fly!”

  Quinn leveled out at several hundred feet and flew due east, hoping to avoid the populated areas—especially since he was glowing bright blue. Moments later, they flew over Little Harbor, zipping past the Wentworth by the Sea resort.

  “You’re really bright right now,” Mr. St. Germain said.

  “The glowing body thing is new,” Quinn said. “It doesn’t seem to matter if we have clothes on or not, clothing just glows with us. Still, I think we glow more without clothes or with less layers.”

  “I’ll take your word on that.”

  “Hang on!” Quinn exclaimed, diving down toward the water.

  Mr. St. Germain yelled and laughed, grabbing Quinn’s arms and holding on for dear life.

  Quinn pulled up and accelerated, flying around Newcastle Island and making his way toward South Street Cemetery. A minute later, he slowed down and landed, setting his teacher safely on first base next to where Blake was sitting.

  “Well, Mr. St. Germain, I guess you got to first base with a superhero tonight,” Blake teased.

  “Inappropriate,” Quinn said, laughing. He released his teacher and stepped back.

  Mr. St. Germain, laughing hysterically while simultaneously hyperventilating with excitement, sat down next to Blake, resting his arms on his knees. “That was amazing!” he said, slapping the sides of his face with his hands. “Okay, I have so many questions…I don’t even know where to begin. We have so much more to discover together.”

  Quinn smiled. This is what I want…to learn how to help people. Now that you’re totally on board, we can do this. We can become the superheroes we’re meant to be.

  ❖

  Blake

  The sound of shattering ceramic jarred Blake from sleep. He sat up, surprised. Was I dreaming?

  It was still dark out, so it was too early for him to get up for school. A moment later, he heard his father yelling at his mother through the floor. She yelled a response back at him.

  Ugh.

  He didn’t need his super hearing to know what was going on. He flopped back down on the bed and sighed, debating whether he’d check it out or not. Something else crashed and broke, so he decided to get up because his parents were probably both sloshed and incoherent. Barefoot, wearing only his boxers, Blake quietly made his way down the carpeted stairwell, through the dark house, and into the kitchen doorway.

  It appeared as though his father, Ralph, had come home drunk from the lodge again and was trying to sober up with coffee before bed…not that the idea made any sense to Blake. He was waving a piece of paper around while shouting at his mother, Stella, who, on her hands and knees, was trying to pick up a broken coffee mug and some spilled milk. Looking around the kitchen, Blake assumed his father had thrown a coffee mug at the wall, thus explaining why coffee dripped down the wall and the front of the refrigerator onto the floor.

  Ralph wasn’t making much sense as he angrily rambled on, but it was clear the contents of the paper in his hand had pissed him off. Irritation filled Blake’s heart when he recognized the crumpled, unpaid hospital bill in his dad’s hand. Then, Blake thought his dad was going to kick his mom.

  “Hey!” Blake shouted, startling his parents.

  “Oh, hi, honey, did we wake you up?” his mother asked, speaking as if nothing unpleasant was going on.

  “You little shit,” Ralph spat, spinning around. Blake noted some drool and yellow vomit drying on his T-shirt. Gross.

  “Do you have any idea of how much your little hospital trip is going to cost us?

  Shit, not this again. This was the sixth time his father had seen the hospital bill and reacted like it was the first time he had opened it. Blake sighed. “Yes dad, about thirty grand.”

  “Thirty fuckin’ grand!” his father slurred back, waving the letter at Blake. “And you just stand there looking stupid at me every damn day.”

  “Yup,” Blake said, knowing the only way to end this conversation was to agree with his father. “I’ve asked my manager to double my shifts on weekends. Don’t worry, I’ll pay off as much as I can. It’s just hard when I’m trying to save for college…”

  Ralph waved his hand dismissively. “You’ll never get into college, so you better get used to working hard like me for the rest of your life.”

  Blake winced.

  “While you’re at it, get a real job and stop pissing your life away making rich people’s coffee.”

  “I have school, dad.”

  “Fuck school. It ain’t done me no good, why should it help you?”

  “Okay, dad,” Blake said, surrendering and agreeing with his father, hoping it would calm him down. Wow, this is not going well at all tonight
.

  Ralph let out a belch and waved a hand at his wife. “Fuck the coffee, Stella. I’m going to bed.”

  “Oh, okay, dear. Whatever you want,” his mom answered.

  “Out of my way, brat,” Ralph said, making a beeline for the stairs—but he never made it. Blake watched him trip over his own feet and fall face-forward onto the floor.

  “Ouch,” his father said. Then he put his head down and passed out.

  “Why do you put up with him?” Blake demanded, glaring at his mother. Shit, this isn’t helping, at all.

  Stella looked at him with anger and disgust. “That man is still your father and you owe him respect…”

  Blake rolled his eyes. “I owe him nothing.”

  “You may feel that way, but he provides for us. Without your father, we’d be out on the streets. You have a lot to be thankful for, young man.”

  Blake folded his arms and watched his mother wipe up the rest of the spilled coffee from the floor. “Why exactly did dad want coffee at two in the morning?”

  Stella paused, looked at Blake, and shrugged. “I don’t really know, hunny. It didn’t make any sense to me, but you know how your father gets when he’s in one of his moods.”

  “Uh-huh,” Blake responded.

  “Would you mind…”

  “Putting dad in his recliner? Sure.” Blake turned and went to his father. He dragged Ralph’s limp body into the living room—a usually difficult task, but tonight Blake had no trouble hefting his father’s deadweight. Grabbing his father under the arms, he pulled him onto the recliner and raised his feet. Okay, am I getting super strength, too? That definitely seemed easier than normal.

  Blake looked at him once more and shook his head. I need to get some air.

  He jogged upstairs and pulled on some sweatpants, sneakers, and a black hoodie. Then, he snuck out of the house to walk around the Atlantic Heights neighborhood.

  ❖

  Several minutes later, the cool fall air helped relax his mind from the abusive reality of his family life. For a brief moment, he contemplated whether his sister, Elizabeth, had made the right choice to emancipate herself and leave, but he needed a roof over his head if he wanted to graduate high school—something he knew he needed to do in order to get into college with Quinn.